


It Cuts Both Ways

by Lady_Bunansa (Alexis_Rockford)



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: AO3 FB Challenge, AO3 Writers Facebook Group, AO3 Writers Facebook Group Monthly Challenge, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, One Shot, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Rockford/pseuds/Lady_Bunansa
Summary: After the destruction of the Sun Cryst, the party is back aboard theStrahl. Balthier attempts to distract himself from the pain of losing his father by caring for Lady Ashe, who has suffered injury during their recent battle. Angst and fluff ensues.I was challenged to write:Fandom: Old FandomPairing: Rare PairingSetting: Hurt/Comfort Trope





	It Cuts Both Ways

_Fool of a pirate._ Those had been his father's callous last words. His first reaction had been to deny the charge, to insist that he was more than a mere sky pirate. But now, sitting at the controls of his beloved airship, he wondered if is father had been right all along. Letting the aircraft hover in place for a moment, he looked out of the cockpit windows at the devastation the Sun Cryst had inflicted on the Pharos. He shook his head sadly. It was a bad business all around. Losing his former fellow judge was no cause for celebration either.

Suddenly, he heard a gasp from behind him and turned to see Lady Ashe slumping against Vaan. He bolted from his seat and rushed to her aid. “Princess, what’s wrong?” he asked as he and the young blond thief tried to steady her. Basch jumped to his feet in alarm.

“I don’t know,” Vaan replied as he offered the swooning woman into Balthier’s capable arms. “She was fine a minute ago.”

“I was asking her,” he said, nodding at the lady whose eyelids were fluttering weakly.

“What happened?” she murmured as she reorientated herself to reality. “Oh, Balthier!” Her face, which had been drained of colour a moment before was now faintly tinged with pink.

Balthier began to feel a wet stickiness spreading from where his right hand firmly gripped her left arm. “You’re bleeding,” he said softly.

“‘Tis nothing,” she insisted and began to push away from him. “Honestly, I’m fi-”

He caught her as she tipped forward and her full weight collapsed into him. “Basch,” he said, nodding to the older man who looked as though he was about to jump out of his skin from worry. “I’ve got this. Fran, how are you faring?”

Fran, who had been watching everything from the co-pilot’s seat closed her eyes and nodded. “I have recovered. The Myst is nearly dissipated already.”

“Good. Take the controls,” he ordered as he lifted the unconscious girl off the floor completely. “Keep her hovering here for a while or set her course for Balfonheim, it matters not. Penelo,” he turned to the blonde girl with the pixie-like face. “With me.”

He carried her to the sleeping quarters, being careful not to knock her head against anything. Penelo followed dutifully behind him. “My mana is almost spent,” she informed him. “I don’t know how effective my healing spells will be at the moment.”

Balthier cursed under his breath. “Do we have any potions? What about ethers?”

“We used them all in the battle against your f-” she stopped herself before bringing up the true identity of the megalomaniac they had just slain. “I mean, Dr. Cid.”

Balthier gently laid her down on her bed and began rummaging around for medical supplies. After locating a roll of bandages and placing it next to her, he hastily cast First Aid on her. It was a flimsy technick, he knew, but the best he could do at present. “Then you had better tell Fran to head to the nearest item shop.”

“Right,” said Penelo. “That would be Bhujerba, I think.” She hurried back upstairs toward the cockpit.

Ashe groaned as she returned to consciousness for the second time in as many minutes.

“Shh,” he hushed her. He brushed the hair back from her forehead with a stroke of his left hand. “I’m here, princess. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

She smiled wanly and placed her own slender hand on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, then closed her eyes again.

Balthier frowned and began to unwind the bandages. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like his First Aid had finally staunched the bleeding. However, she had obviously lost a lot of blood. Perhaps she had even nicked an artery. As he bound her wound, he tried to figure out exactly when she had sustained it. Was it during their fight with Cid or the escape from the Sun Cryst’s explosion? He supposed it didn’t really matter. He simply felt terrible that he hadn’t noticed when it happened. Maybe there had been something he could do to prevent it.

He heard his father’s laughter mocking him from beyond the grave. _You are so set on running, you don’t even notice when the people around you are hurting._ The madman’s voice echoed in his head as though he were standing beside him now. Balthier shook his head hard to be free of it. “No,” he insisted. “It isn’t like that. I only ran because I couldn’t stand to see you like that. Your obsession with Venat was killing you. You wouldn’t listen to me when I said you needed help. You never listened to me!” He banged his fist against the wall in frustration.

Ashe stirred and looked up at him. “Is something amiss?” she asked faintly.

Balthier turned on his most charming smile. “Of course not, princess. You just get some rest now.”

Her eyelids drooped, but he could tell by her breathing that she was still conscious. “I’m sorry,” she said after a long silence.

Balthier blinked in surprise. “For getting hurt? Ashe, please. It happens to the best of us, even to leading men sometimes. Although,” he gazed down in wry amusement at the dark stain on his right sleeve. “I do admit that the cuffs of this shirt are never going to be the same again.”

She managed a small smile at this last remark. “You miss my meaning. I am sorry about...about your father.”

Cold chills prickled the back of his neck at her words. “We barely knew each other anymore,” he admitted sadly. “The man that raised me, that loved me…” He swallowed hard over the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. “He died a long time ago in the Jagd Difohr.”

Ashe managed to force her eyelids open a little further. “Still,” she said, “it can’t have been easy watching him die...like that.”

At your own hand, his father’s ghost chastised him. Or was it merely his guilty conscience? Either way, he wished it would be quiet and leave him to grieve in his own way or not at all, depending on where the mood took him.

Just then, the Strahl lurched forward. Fran was obviously taking the airship to get supplies. Ashe moaned a bit at the sudden movement and Balthier took her hands in his. “Don’t fret, your highness,” he said consolingly. “We’re just heading to Bhujerba for some more potions.” He frowned to see that a spot of red had bloomed on the bandage.

Her eyes followed his to the bloody cloth around her arm. “I’m more concerned about you,” she insisted, trying to catch his gaze. “This is merely a flesh wound. A wound to the heart can be far more painful. Trust me,” she said, her eyes welling with emotion. “I know.”

Balthier seemed to feel the wedding band in the pocket of his leather trousers begin to glow like a hot red coal. Of course, she was still thinking about her late husband. He had been foolish to think that she would ever be interested in…

“It takes time,” she continued, nodding slightly. “But eventually, all hurts must find healing. That is the way of the world. Life ever continues despite our sorrows; sometimes even because of them. That’s what I feel I am meant to learn on this journey anyway.”

Her eyes locked with his, and he swore he saw something like a promise there. A seed of hope buried itself inside his heart. The rational side of him thought it best that he dig it out before it took root, but when had he ever listened to reason? He was, after all, a fool of a pirate. And who knew? Perhaps foolish was exactly what he wanted to be.

 


End file.
